"
Still the indicative mood, still not for a moment the conditional!
Rachel did not fail to make another note; but now there was nothing
bitter even in her thoughts. She believed in this man, and in his
promises; moreover, she began to focus the one thing about him in which
she disbelieved. It was his feeling towards her--nothing more and
nothing else. There he was insincere; but it was a pardonable
insincerity, after all.
Of his admiration she was convinced; it had been open and honest all
along; but there was something deeper than admiration. He could say what
he liked. The woman knew. And what could it be but love?
The woman knew; and though the tragedy of her life was so close behind
her; nay, though mystery and suspicion encompassed her still, as they
might until her death, the woman thrilled.
It was a thrill of excitement chiefly, but excitement was not the only
element. There was the personal factor, too; there was the fascination
which this man had for her, which he could exert at will, and which he
was undoubtedly exerting now.
To escape from his eyes, to think but once more for herself, and by
herself, Rachel rose at last, and looked from the window which lit this
recess.
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